Silk & Sawdust
by Sullen Kitty
Summary: Oneshot. Gibbs wonders how he and Jenny got together in the first place. Jibbs. Inspired by “Everything I Ask For” by The Maine.


**Title:** Silk & Sawdust

**Summary**: Oneshot. Jibbs. Gibbs wonders how he and Jenny got together in the first place. Inspired by "Everything I Ask For" by The Maine.

**Disclaimer:** I obviously don't own NCIS, because if I did, Judgment Day would have ended _much_ differently and Vance would be in the Arctic… or arrested for a gambling problem. Also, I don't own "Everything I Ask For" by The Maine.

**A/N:** How many times can I write the same thing, but with a new angle? ANOTHER Post-JD fic about Gibbs and Jenny. I need to get out of this rut, my friends. Sadly, every song that's slightly bittersweet and lovey reminds me of them, so expect lots more… XD

I couldn't put all the lyrics up, unfortunately, but the entire song is so very Jibbs (except the part about Prince, but you never know, lmao).

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She used to leave little Post-Its all over the place, reminding her of things, reminding him of things.

_take suit to cleaners_

_throw out chinese food_

_i love you, jethro._

_!!don't forget to bring black wig to russia!!_

He misses that.

After Paris, he started to leave himself Post-Its wherever he'd see them – his memory had become dependent on them.

He still stuck them all over his monitor.

When she'd come back into his life – or, depending on which side you were on, when _he'd_ come back into _her_ life – he'd been more than a little apprehensive. He'd never quite forgotten how much he'd loved her.

How much he still loves her.

But before he'd gotten used to seeing her every day, she'd gone.

He remembers how she used to laugh, both in Paris and when she was at NCIS, whenever he made a face at an over-slick politician's aide.

He liked how you could tell her emotions from her clothes: red when she was feeling hot, skirts when she wanted to bee seen as feminine, pants and jackets when she was The Director, tweed if she was going to a conference. All designer, of course, and expensive; but always gorgeous.

He'd liked her best without her clothes, though. Naked, warm, her body under his calloused hands, smiling when her fingers splayed over his chest or tousled his hair.

Tony had never gotten how their poised, perfect, Prada-wearing Director could have fallen in love with a fisherman from the Sears catalogue. Silk and sawdust don't go together.

Privately, he agrees. How on earth did he and Jenny Shepard fall in love in the first place?

He'd liked her at first because she had red hair and the body to go with it. Then, because she was headstrong and focused. Even more because she had a killer sense of humor and was severely sarcastic.

Then finally he'd realized he'd fallen in love with his partner – a stupid thing to do, he realizes in retrospect, but at the time it seemed wonderful.

Then she'd left him, and he'd hated her. Until she came back. And then he loved her all over again.

He remembers them sitting at the kitchen table in Paris, her eating part of the frittata left over from last night, he drinking his second cup of coffee and reading the paper. She reached out her hand, and he handed her the half of the paper he was finished with. Neither of them had looked up.

They knew each other like they knew Paris – inside and out.

She was everything he'd ever asked for - beautiful, strong, smart, funny, with an attitude and a backbone that rivaled his own. She'd stand up to him when no one else would, and calmed him down when no one else dared touch him.

When she touched him, he was without a doubt the luckiest man alive.

She was the one person who could make him feel like shit if he'd done something stupid, and the one person who could keep up with his train of thought when his mind was bouncing all over the place. More than once she'd come down from MTAC and interpreted the words he'd thrown out with some degree of sense as Tony and McGee looked on, stupefied.

She was the one person he loved, the one person he loved to have.

And now… now, he thinks as he sands the frame of his new boat – to be named, undisputedly, the _Jenny_ – he doesn't have anything worth having.

…_She's not big on holding hands  
But that's all right 'cause I've still got her  
She keeps up on current affairs  
Prada is what she wears!_

_I don't know what she sees in me  
But I'm happy that she's happy now  
That she's with me  
And I'm freakin' out  
Because I'm just so lucky_

_Oh she makes me feel like shit  
It's always somethin'  
But I can't get over it  
She thinks it's nothin'  
Because she's  
Everything I ask for  
Everything I ask for  
And just a little bit more  
Everything I ask for  
Everything I ask for  
And so much more._

**-Fin-**


End file.
